tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23760577668117724122024-03-07T03:48:25.310-06:00Life/PlayThe man who writes about himself and his own time is the only man who writes about all people and all time. - George Bernard ShawCody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.comBlogger158125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-75067934918200257792010-04-19T11:41:00.002-06:002010-04-19T11:42:21.757-06:00LOOKING BACK: 4.9.2008 Wrestlers<span style="font-style:italic;">Two men at a restaurant. Dinner's almost finished. The one on the right continues to pick at his food.</span><br /><br />A<br />It was good.<br /><br />B<br />I thought the chicken was dry.<br /><br />A<br />The beef was good. Your chicken was okay.<br /><br />B<br />Just a little dry. Not too much.<br /><br />A<br />Just mentionably dry. <br /><br />B<br />Right. Not complainably.<br /><br />A<br />You know, I was thinking the other day. I saw this man on the news wrestling a pig. It was some stupid thing for charity or something. I don't know. Filler news, not real news. He was covered in this. Oil I guess. Or something. Crisco. Disgusting. And the pig was just squealing its head off. You know. Ferocious squealing. Almost like a kid being tortured or something awful like that. And this grease-covered guy, just holding onto it for dear life. <br /><br />B<br />They put that on the news?<br /><br />A<br />Yeah. I know. Pathetic, right? But that pig. The guy. I thought, "My God. I feel like that. I feel like that guy holding on that grease covered squealing thing."<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Silence.</span><br /><br /><br />B<br />It passes.<br /><br />A<br />I know.<br /><br />B<br />It always passes.<br /><br />A<br />I know. But I'm exhausted. I don't believe I can win anymore. I'm sorry, but I don't.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Another silence.</span> <br /><br /><br />B<br />They put that on the news?<br /><br />A<br />Yeah, I know. Pathetic, right?<br /><br />B<br />A little. What made you bring it up?<br /><br />A<br />Nothing. Just thought it was wierd. <br /><br />B<br />Wierd.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">They go back to restaurant silence. The lights go down.</span>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-24104830972599412522010-04-19T11:39:00.000-06:002010-04-19T11:40:50.127-06:00LOOKING BACK: 4.8.2008: The Cave of Wonders<span style="font-style:italic;">The Husband and the Wife. A couch. The light of a television hits them.</span><br /><br /><br />THE WIFE<br />I want to take a trip.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />Huh?<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />Trip.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />Trip what?<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />I want to take one. I want us to take a trip somewhere.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />Where do you want to go?<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />Somewhere. Some place we haven't seen before.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />There are a lot of places we haven't seen before.<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />I know.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />There are places down our street we haven't seen before.<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />That's not what I meant.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />If you want to take a trip to the Brennan's garage three doors down, I'd be happy to arrange it for the weekend.<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />You know what I meant. Don't make fun of me.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />I wasn't...<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />Don't make fun of the things I want. <br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />I'm sorry.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">A silence falls. Just the flicker of the TV. The muffled sound of a documentary narration.<br /><br />A man appears behind the couch. A nature photographer. He's in full adventurer regalia. He's very quiet. He peeks up, rises slowly, and snaps a picture of the couple on the couch. Then he descends again, out of sight.<br /><br />The Husband and Wife are none the wiser.</span><br /><br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />You watching this?<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />Sort of.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />It's amazing.<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />I think it's sordid.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The Husband turns up the volume with the remote. We hear this part clearly.</span><br /><br /><br />DOCUMENTARY NARRATION<br />"... are stark portraits of what photographer Jake Madden calls "Human Chasms," the gulfs between people, no matter how close they are. Madden says:"<br /><br />JAKE MADDEN<br />"Everyone thinks it's just dead air. But it's not. The photographs show. The space is like a cave of wonders."<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />I love that he calls it a "Cave of Wonders."<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />You can't take pictures of that.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />He says he can.<br /><br />DOCUMENTARY NARRATION<br />"Madden atrributes the glorious complexity of his work to the complexity of its subject. Madden says it takes a lot of neglect, anger, frustration, compromise, failure, and deception to create the most beautiful of his portraits. But he says, it's worth it."<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />Funny how that one looks like our living room.<br /><br />JAKE MADDEN<br />"This is my favorite. Look at the swirl of colors."<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />She has the exact same shoes as you do, honey.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The photographer rises and sneaks out of the room. </span><br /><br /><br />THE WIFE<br />I wish we could go to a place that beautiful.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />I doubt we could afford it. It's got to be in Europe somewhere.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Silence as they contemplate themselves.<br /><br />The lights go out.</span>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-89898990226809677092010-04-19T11:35:00.002-06:002010-04-19T11:39:06.819-06:00LOOKING BACK: 4.1.2008: The Winged Man (Fly Shy)<span style="font-style:italic;">The Guy and Icarus.</span><br /><br />ICARUS<br />Wanna try these on?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I don't think so.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />No faith in the apparatus?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />No. Sorry. No offense.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />None taken. Nobody ever wants to. Try them out. Word travels.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />That it does.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />People are fly shy. It's what I call it. Not a technical name. Just a bit of. You know. Lingo. Of the personal kind. They see the evidence of a failed attempt, and they won't come near even a piece of it. Fly shy. I don't get it.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I do. I get it.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />I think, as long as there's a sliver of a chance that the events will play out differently, it's worth a go. Within reason, of course. But if there's hope... you know, I think there's got to be at least the attempt. No time for fly shy. You know?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Who wants to fall out the sky more than once? Hell. Who wants to do it at all? <br /><br />ICARUS<br />At least something's happening to you.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">There's a silence between them.</span><br /><br /><br />THE GUY<br />I feel a little beaten up. Bruised. I know you're supposed to just brush off the dirt, take a deep breath, and plunge ahead. I know it's what you do every day. But I just. I just don't want to today. I just want to be still. Completely still. <br /><br />ICARUS<br />The only one that still are the dead ones. You're far from dead, buddy.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />True.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />Think about it. I think these wings might fit you. No time for fly shy.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The lights go down.</span>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-70885931006283490952010-04-18T21:28:00.003-06:002010-04-18T21:42:31.977-06:004.18.2010: The Chair of Forgetfulness (My friend, you cannot look behind)<em>Theseus and Pirithous, the best of friends. They are in the underworld, at the Chair of Forgetfulness.</em><br /><br />THESEUS<br />it's alright.<br /><br />PIRITHOUS<br />No.<br /><br />THESEUS<br />I'll be here. I promise. I'm not going anywhere.<br /><br />PIRITHOUS<br />Absolutely not. <br /><br />THESEUS<br />We've talked this through. There's no surprise. You sit in the chair...<br /><br />PIRITHOUS<br />The Chair of Forgetfulness...<br /><br />THESEUS<br />Yes. You sit in the chair, and it all goes away. Everything. <br /><br />PIRITHOUS<br />Everything.<br /><br />THESEUS<br />The pain. The disappointment. The failure.<br /><br />PIRITHOUS<br />Everything.<br /><br />THESEUS<br />And I'll be standing here. Right here. Waiting for you once you're ready to go.<br /><br /><em>There's a pause.</em><br /><br />PIRITHOUS<br />I'm scared. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be. I know we've gone over this. but I'm scared. I sit in the chair, and it all falls away -- all the terrible miserable awful things I don't want to carry another moment -- but what if when they fall away, so does everything else -- all the good, all the joy, music, memories, my loves, you...<br /><br />THESEUS<br />This is my promise to you, my friend.<br />This place,<br />this myth,<br />this is ours.<br /><br />This space that was created <br />without you in it<br />now seems much richer and fuller <br />and more alive<br />with you in it.<br /><br />So in this space,<br />this space that I keep alive<br />for almost no one else but you,<br />I promise that the only thing you forget<br />when you sit in that chair<br />are the things you want to forget.<br /><br />Everything else is yours.<br /><br />It's a fiction, yes,<br />but it's all I can do.<br />And I want to give you a space<br />where there is no sadness<br />and the world is exactly what you want the world to be.<br /><br />So sit.<br />Forget.<br /><br />And when you're done,<br />the world is yours to make.<br /><br /><em>It's a meager gift, but it's the best he can do. Theseus motions for Pirithous to sit. And Pirithous does. And the burden he carries melts away. Only the bad parts. Because in this play, the myth is what I make it.<br /><br />Pirithous is happy. The world is well.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-36475651239079527592010-04-17T11:33:00.002-06:002010-04-17T11:57:08.591-06:004.17.2010: Between,,, You Know (Odysseus and Icarus Consider the Options)<em>Odysseus in a boat. He's peering intently ahead, through a telescope. He looks seriously worried.<br /><br />Alongside him is a younger sailor, looking equally worried.</em><br /><br />SAILOR<br />This looks bad.<br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />It is bad.<br /><br />SAILOR<br />So, what do we do?<br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />Steer the ship left, we get eaten by Scylla. Steer the ship left, and we get sucked in by Charybdis.<br /><br /><em>A pause.</em><br /><br />SAILOR<br />Those are our options? The ONLY options? Die or die?<br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />Yes.<br /><br />SAILOR<br />What about going back? Change course completely. Forward isn't the only direction, sir. <br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />You don't know much about Greek mythology, do you?<br /><br />SAILOR<br />Look, I didn't ask to be cast in this myth. I don't even have a name! I'm just "Sailor," and if you consider the stage directions, I'm a young sailor, I have a lot of life left in me, so if I have a voice in this other than as a passive participant so you have someone to talk to, I vote we turn back. I don't like what happens if we steer right and I certainly don't like what happens if we steer left. So let's just steer back -- yes, we'll look like pussies, but we'll at least be ALIVE to be ridiculed.<br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />You have a lot to learn, young man.<br /><br /><em>Above them, we see Icarus, mid-flight. He's high enough to be thrilled with the implications of flight, but not yet high enough to get burned by the sun.</em><br /><br />ICARUS<br />Odysseus!<br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />Icarus! How's the sky today, my friend?<br /><br />ICARUS<br />The day is beautiful! The sun is spectacular!<br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />My friend, I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. Wondered if you might be able to help me out.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />Certainly. What's the problem.<br /><br />SAILOR<br />A rock -- where a multi-headed beast will devour us as we pass! And a hard place -- where a sucking whirlpool will swallow us whole! <br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />Steer left or steer right? Death either way?<br /><br />SAILOR<br />Or turn back! Seriously, why isn't that option on the table? You people are fucking ridiculous.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />Damned if you do, damned if you don't.<br />The point is, you're damned either way,<br />so your choice isn't an escape from damnation,<br />its how you handle being damned.<br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />That's the purpose of myth.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />The consideration of impossible questions...<br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />Not their answers.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />We're all going to die.<br />We're all going to fail.<br />We're all going to try to to touch the sun, and miss.<br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />So the only way you know who you are<br />what you're made of<br />what kind of person you will be<br />is to accept failure.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />Fall from the sky.<br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />Sail through the middle of an unwinnable situation.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />Because -- and here's the secret --<br />on the other side of it...<br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />...after the failure...<br /><br />ICARUS<br />... you get reborn.<br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />Death is a temporary thing.<br />Skins will be shed,<br />transformation will occur<br />and you will be changed.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />Flip a coin.<br />Steer in one direction.<br />You'll probably fail.<br />That's life.<br /><br />ODYSSEUS<br />Isn't it wonderful?<br /><br /><em>Icarus flies up into the sky and out of sight. The sailor looks at Odysseus, looks ahead to the rock and the hard place. Pulls out a coin. Flips it.</em><br /><br />SAILOR<br />Steer left. Let's see what happens.Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-92152966783623155762010-01-16T00:35:00.003-06:002010-01-16T00:52:56.551-06:001.16.2010: Icarus in Small (Give me the seat by the window)Two seats on an commerical airliner. Icarus in one, The Guy in the other.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />This is the first time I've ever been on a plane.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />No way. Really?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yeah. I have this -- always have had this -- anxiety, I guess, is the word to use but it's more like an obsessive fixation, this CERTAINTY that I will set foot on a plane, take off, and find myself sucked into the air when the damn thing splits open, dumping me onto some field over Virginia. Splat. End of story.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />Been there. It's not pretty.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I know it's irrational... but it always seemed so much easier to just listen to the fear, give into it, than face it. <br /><br />ICARUS<br />What changed your mind?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Twenty-nine hours on a train to spend a week in New York. It was an adventure at 20. At 34... well, plummeting out of a plane and getting squashed seems less painful.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />I'm not the best guy for this.<br />I'm myth.<br />My fall... it's metaphorical.<br /><br />(sort of. I do actually fall,<br />drown,<br />die,<br />the whole nine yards,<br />just for me -- the end <br />is not really an end.<br /><br />it's a temporary thing.<br /><br />You fall, you die.<br />Game over.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Not helping.<br /><br />ICARUS<br />Odds are, you won't.<br />And then you get to see <br />thepart of the flight<br />I never get to see.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />What's that?<br /><br />ICARUS<br />The destination.<br />The end.<br />The airport in New York<br />and your friends<br />and your show<br />and the future...<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I'm not as scared as I thought I would be.<br />I'm sitting here, <br />and in the imagined version of this evening<br />I was terrified.<br /><br />But I'm fine.<br />I'm calm.<br />I'm...<br /><br />ICARUS<br />Ready.<br />You're ready.<br /><br />When the plane takes off,<br />imagine the wings<br />as sprouting from your back<br />and the wind in your face<br />and the heat of the sun on your face<br />and the possibility of everything on the other side<br />holding you up.<br /><br />The physics of flight. Just conjecture.<br />That's what keeps you aloft.<br />The possible things.<br /><br />The Guy smiles. He turns, and sees that Icarus has changed. He's no longer some random boy who's a metaphor for all sorts of things. Icarus is Marc, cap, flannel shirt and scruffy beard, smiling that smile with the raised eyebrows that makes the Guy happy. <br /><br />Maybe he's been Marc all along, and I'd been talking to him for years. Just waiting for that trip. The fountain. The rainy Saturday afternoon. This flight. The future. <br /><br />The plane roars to life. Everything will be okay.Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-18775034689662769332007-05-29T19:34:00.000-06:002007-05-29T19:38:49.878-06:00Life/Play Has a New Home on the Web<em>Life/Play</em> has a new address.<br /><br />To expand its web presence in preparation for its New York Fringe Festival debut, <em>Life/Play </em>has moved.<br /><br />It's new address is <a href="http://www.lifeplayproject.com">http://www.lifeplayproject.com</a><br /><br />It's got a new look, and some updated features (including a video blog that will document the preapratiosn and trip to New York!)<br /><br />Please stop by the new site and leave a comment in the Reader's Comment section. I'd like to keep better tabs on who's reading this and where they're from.<br /><br />Thanks for reading <em>Life/Play, </em>and keep following us to New York!Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-88839477256489931742007-05-28T15:35:00.000-06:002007-05-29T08:47:32.247-06:005.28.2007: Unfinished Business (with an unexpected coda about something else entirely)<em><strong>“It's funny how the fella, even though your supposedly over him, keeps popping up, I think one should be done before moving to another?”<br />-- Anonymous comment on the blog</strong></em><br /><br /><br /><em>The Guy sits with Nate on a couch. “CSI” plays on a television set we can’t see.<br /><br />Nate has his arm around the Guy. They are content.<br /><br />The Fella appears.</em><br /><br />THE FELLA<br />Hello.<br /><br />NATE<br />What’s he doing here?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Nothing. Don’t worry about it.<br /><br /><em>So, Nate doesn’t. They go back to watching “CSI.”</em><br /><br />THE FELLA<br />I got hit in the face by a crazy person this weekend.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Oh yeah?<br /><br />NATE<br />Hey. We’re watching TV. You and I. Not him.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I know.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />Don’t be jealous, Nate. Even though he likes me better.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Shut up. I don’t.<br /><br />NATE<br />You don’t, do you?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />No.<br /><br />NATE<br />I didn’t think so.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />Yes you do. Because here I am. Again. In these plays.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Just because you show up here, doesn’t mean I still want to be with you. Which I don’t. It only means that you’re a peripheral part of my consciousness, showing up here to represent some part of my life that’s over with. I mean you don’t even have a name in here…<br /><br />NATE<br />I get a name.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />Don’t rub it in.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />So can we get back to watching TV now?<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />But I’m why this whole thing got started!<br /><br />NATE<br />He is?<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />Yeah, buddy. Look back at the first couple days. All me! I am the reason all this madness got rolling. So, if you really think about it… Nate… I’m the reason you’re here.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />No. I’M the reason he’s here. I’m the writer of this thing.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />But if it wasn’t for me…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yes, I appreciate that. If it wasn’t for you, none of this would have even come into being. But beyond the point of inspiration, you have nothing to do with this thing. This is my life here…<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />Of which I am a part…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yes. Of which you are a part.<br /><br />NATE<br />I really wanna watch the rest of this episode of CSI.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I know. I’m sorry.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />Look at your own plays, Mister Writer-Man. You’re not over me at all. I keep popping up, unexpectedly, and it’s always a variation on the same theme: missed opportunity, lost love, the One That Got Away. So what are you doing here? Seriously.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />He tells me he likes me.<br />That’s what I’m doing here.<br />He tells me he likes me, and I believe him.<br /><br />Don’t get me wrong.<br />I’m always worried he’s going to change his mind<br />(because that’s what I do, you know,<br />wait for the other shoe to drop<br />because I haven’t yet gotten accustomed to good things sticking around)<br /><br />But he reminds me without me asking.<br />We’ll just be sitting somewhere,<br />and he’ll tell me he’s happy to be with me.<br /><br />That’s nice.<br />You never did that.<br /><br />But I have to honor your place in this<br />because it wouldn’t be true otherwise.<br /><br />But don’t think you’re here because I’m not happy where I am.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />You’ve written better plays than this.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I know.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />They’re getting unfocused. A little rambling.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I know.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />I don’t even particularly like the one I’m in right now.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I’d imagine you wouldn’t.<br /><br /><em>A shift, unexpected. </em><br /><em></em><br />THE FELLA<br />What’s going on with you?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I don’t know exactly.<br />A tide seems to be changing.<br />We shall see.<br /><br />NATE<br />Can we finish this episode now?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yeah.<br /><br /><em>The Guy and Nate finish watching “CSI.” The Fella doesn’t go anywhere -- he hovers, but he’s quiet.<br /><br />And in the silence, there is the feeling of something changing. Not necessarily between these three people, but in the entirety of this world.<br /><br />Changes are coming. Most of them feel like positive ones. But you never know what comes around the corner until you’re around it.<br /><br />Enjoy this right now. His arm over your shoulder. The cap he’s wearing. The way he laughs at that commercial.<br /><br />Be right here, right now. For as long as you can.<br /><br />The lights go down.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-41398845756682066722007-05-27T17:51:00.000-06:002007-05-28T17:51:43.711-06:005.27.2007:The Private Public<em>The Guy and The Reader, who sent a very nice comment to the blog.</em><br /><br />THE GUY<br />Hello.<br /><br />THE READER<br />I hope you don’t mind the comment.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Are you kidding? Not at all. Thank you.<br /><br />THE READER<br />You’re welcome.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />It’s encouraging. Most of the time, when I write these, I feel like I’m really not doing anything that’s interesting to anyone. Other than me, of course.<br /><br />THE READER<br />Oh look.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />What?<br /><br />THE READER<br />Don’t you see what you’re about to do? You’re about to give a total stranger the “big idea” of this play.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yeah, I am, aren’t I?<br /><br />THE READER<br />And all because I said I liked it. That’s very kind of you.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Well, get on with it, then. Start spouting philosophical.<br /><br />THE READER<br />Okay.<br /><br />There’s always a risk being taken when you make the private public.<br />But it seems to bear out that the more private it is when it becomes public<br />the more people relate.<br /><br />In specificity comes universality.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Playwriting 101.<br /><br />THE READER<br />Yeah.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Write what you know.<br /><br />THE READER<br />Yeah, you could just say it like that.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />You know, I have these moments when I can sort of see this one little project assume a life of its own. It goes out into the world, and people read it, and it becomes larger than just me at a computer, typing away the little details of my life.<br /><br />Then that moment passes, and it all seems self-indulgent again.<br /><br />THE READER<br />Maybe it is. But what isn’t, when it comes to art?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yeah.<br /><br />THE READER<br />We’re all just making whatever we can the best way we know how.<br />Make meaning out of our lives.<br /><br />Yours is just a little more openly egocentric.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I guess you’re right.<br /><br />THE READER<br />Well, now look. Not only do I get the “big idea” but I get to be your reassuring voice of comfort, too.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />It’s a good day for anonymous commentors, isn’t it?<br /><br />THE READER<br />I’d say so.<br /><br /><em>The lights go down.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-64109783547743908772007-05-26T17:26:00.000-06:002007-05-28T17:27:15.903-06:005.26.2007: A One-Line Play (Out of Necessity)<em>The Guy is beginning to feel a familiar weight starting to form in his chest. The kind of weight that appears when there is much to be done – too much to be done – and the pathway to the conclusion of everything seems very far away and almost unreachable.<br /><br />This has nothing to do with love. This is the result of saying yes to too many things. The result of overextending yourself.<br /><br />There is a moment on the way that won’t be pleasant. The Guy hates these days. But they come.<br /><br />Not today. Today’s just a rumble.</em><br /><br />THE GUY<br />One thing at a time. One thing at a time. One thing at a time.<br /><br /><em>To himself, he says this. Again and again. One line. Out of necessity.<br /><br />The lights go down.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-65047775741704846132007-05-25T22:52:00.000-06:002007-05-26T23:39:05.506-06:005.25.2007: The Tower of Babel, or The Language of Lost Things<em>The stage is filled with actors. Chaos erupts from their mouths -- snatches of song, lines from the play, commerical jingles, random noises, foreign languages, ect. Everything at once, everything loud, everything deeply felt.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>The Guy appears among them, a foreign language dictionary in his hand. Another actor, who so far has been silent, watches him.</em><br /><em></em><br />AN ACTOR<br />It's not going to help you.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />What??<br /><br />AN ACTOR<br />It is not going to help you!<br /><br />THE GUY<br />What won't??<br /><br />AN ACTOR<br />Your book! It's not useful here!<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I'm sorry! The noise... it makes it very difficult to hear!<br /><br /><em>The actor snaps his fingers. The babbling stops. Frozen.</em><br /><em></em><br />AN ACTOR<br />Ask and ye shall recieve.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />And this is the part where you say something important.<br /><br />AN ACTOR<br />Ah. You're starting to see the patterns...<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yes, unfortunately. It's difficult not to, when you do this every single day, to start to see the ways in which your mind constructs the same path toward an idea. This is one of those days when something someone said triggered a thought -- vague and unformed, but a thought nonetheless -- and you are here, nameless character, to give some shape to it.<br /><br />AN ACTOR<br />The Tower of Babel, then?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yes. So now you say something that makes the spark of an idea turn into the whole thing.<br /><br />AN ACTOR<br />No. I won't do that.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Really?<br /><br />AN ACTOR<br />Really. It's late, and this isn't the place.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />It isn't?<br /><br />AN ACTOR<br />No. We're not in the Biblical Babel, although that's certainly worthy of a play down the road.<br />This Babel is the place where lost things go when they're no longer being looked for.<br />It's kind of a sad place, really.<br />They come to this place to be heard, even if no one really listens... at least to be heard.<br /><br /><em>An actor from the chaos starts to speak. It's The Fella.</em><br /><em></em><br />THE FELLA<br />Hey Mr. Daigle. When are we hanging out?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Oh, it's you.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />I miss you.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />It has been a while.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />We don't really talk like we used to.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />No we don't.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />That's okay. Really, it is. I'm off someplace else. I'm not just here. There's somebody on my radar. And I know there's someone on yours...<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yes, there is.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />But there's still that little part... you know. You wrote about it before. We always seem to be doing this... pulling apart, and inching back together.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yeah, that was what we've done before.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />A matter of time.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Not this time.<br />This one isn't just something to tide me over<br />until I get a chance to spend time with you again.<br /><br />This one matters.<br /><br />THE FELLA<br />Oh.<br /><br />THE GUY<br /> (to the actor)<br />Why am I even telling him this? He doesn't really miss me. Not like this. This is just some dumb thing I need to do to make myself feel better.<br /><br />AN ACTOR<br />Lost things have a language all their own.<br />And to lose a love, however tentative and new, is the hardest language to unlearn.<br />We speak it until our tongues fall out<br />until our eyes glaze over<br />until the words stop sounding like words and<br />become something more like guttural grunts and moans<br />and then<br />only then<br />are we finally able to put the words to rest.<br /><br />You move past things, but the conversation doesn't end.<br />And the conversations we stop having in life continue here,<br />until they've played themselves out.<br /><br />It's not the best solution, but it's the only one we've got right now.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I should have known something would have failed when I didn't even give him a name. Even now, even in life, he was never a name. Just a moniker. The Fella. The 20-Year Old. An idea... and I was the same for him.<br /><br />AN ACTOR<br />We all are short-sighted.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />You can snap them back on now. The play's done. It's messy, but it's finished. Like me and him. Art mirrors life.<br /><br />AN ACTOR<br />Fair enough.<br /><br /><em>He snaps. The chaos begins. The Guy joins in. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>We might be unsatisfied, but there is always tomorrow's play. Always the next thing. Alwats what's yet to be spoken.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-3955741888485629832007-05-24T22:47:00.000-06:002007-05-25T22:48:20.796-06:005.24.2007: Because He Told Me He Looks Forward To These<em>The Guy is very tired. He’s on a trip to Houston, a job-related thing. He drove four hours after being at school all day (even hitting a half-hour stretch of single-lane traffic during which he never seemed to break 20 miles an hour). He didn’t reallt stop until about 10:30 -- made for a very long day.<br /></em><br /><em>And he sat here at the computer, really wanting to just turn the damn thing off and not write a play. Because it happens, right? It happens that you don’t get to things when you want to. It happens that you put something off because you know you won’t be able to give it your best. It happens that he sometimes decides not to write a play when he knows it’s just gonna be one of those stage-direction-only plays that irritate some people.<br /></em><br /><em>But The Guy is going to put something down on paper. Because he told me he looks forward to these, Nate does. And I know he checks them, too. I see the comments he leaves behind.<br />And I want to make him happy. Because I’ve noticed that in making him happy, my own day is made a little brighter.<br /></em><br /><em>I know, I know, stop writing about Nate already (I can hear some of your groaning this every time he shows up in a play) but he is what is on my mind when I opened this file to type this play.<br /></em><br /><em>He is what is happening to me.<br /></em><br /><em>So that’s what’s I’m writing about.<br /></em><br /><em>Because he told me he looks forward to these. And that made me smile.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-39397072595481986012007-05-23T07:43:00.000-06:002007-05-25T07:45:18.222-06:005.23.2007: Teacher<em>The Guy is sitting in a school desk -- the old fashioned kind.<br /></em><br /><em>The stage is otherwise empty and quiet.<br /></em><br /><em>Today is his last day as a high school theatre teacher. Tomorrow, a new phase of his life begins, one without lesson plans, lectures, tardiness, rehearsal journals, doctor’s excuses, and early morning laziness. He will miss scolding kids for not being off-book, pushing them to be better, building sets, designing posters, blocking shows, running light boards, staging curtain calls, watching students learn, watching them grow, evolve, mature, create…<br /></em><br /><em>… especially that. He will miss that most of all. Watching them create. Not just a role, not just a show. But a life. An identity. Watching them create themselves.<br /></em><br /><em>The Guy will miss this part of his life. It has been so rich and so abundant, that he wonders who he would be today without this job, without these students, without this single experience. He is sure he’d be less than he is today.<br /></em><br /><em>There should be lines. But to find the words to express what these four years have meant to him is a Herculean task that can never be accomplished in a short play like this.<br /></em><br /><em>So only this will have to suffice:<br /></em><br /><em>Thank you.<br /></em><br /><em>A school bell rings. The lights go out.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-37632645768875524372007-05-22T18:03:00.000-06:002007-05-23T18:06:07.281-06:005.22.2007: The Morning Play (Kafka Fantasia No. 2)<em>The Husband and Wife. Kafka, to the side, with his typewriter.</em><br /><br />KAFKA<br />“As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect…”<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />This morning, I woke up…<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />Terrifying…<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />I turn to my wife lying in bed beside me…<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />Utterly terrifying…<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />And I wrap an arm around her and pull in close, you know, like to kiss her on the back of the neck…<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />Like something from a horror movie…<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />Well, she turns to face me, opens her eyes, and lets out this scream…<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />I screamed, what else could I do?<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />This bloodcurdling scream and bolts right out of the room.<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />There was a gigantic insect. In my bed. Wearing my husband’s pajamas.<br /><br />KAFKA<br />Metamorphosis. Dictionary definition. “A profound change in form from one stage to the next in the life history of an organism.”<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />The scary thing was…<br /><br />KAFKA<br />Metamorphosis isn’t just change.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />The scary thing was not that she ran screaming from me.<br /><br />KAFKA<br />It’s change forward. Into something new.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />The scary thing was that for the second our eyes met, she didn’t recognize me at all.<br /><br />KAFKA<br />Shed the old. Inhabit the new. That is metamorphosis.<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />To see a gigantic insect in your bed wearing your husband’s pajamas unsettles you.<br />What frightened me most was not that I was being held by a gigantic insect.<br />It was that it had my husband’s eyes.<br /><br />KAFKA<br />I thought about making him a spider.<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />Well, the thing had like a thousand eyes, but I could see my husband reflected.<br /><br />KAFKA<br />Or a praying mantis…<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />I haven’t gone back into the bedroom to check if it’s still there.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />She’s been locked in the bathroom all morning.<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />I wonder if it’s eating the linens.<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />I wonder what she’s thinking.<br /><br />THE WIFE<br />Or the curtains…<br /><br />THE HUSBAND<br />I looked in the mirror. I don’t know what frightened her. I look exactly like myself.<br /><br /><em>There’s a moment of stillness between the three of them.</em><br /><br />KAFKA<br />I settled on insect. I don’t know why. I liked the sound of it, I guess.<br /><br /><em>The lights go out.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-62199863642290156222007-05-21T12:46:00.000-06:002007-05-23T12:47:17.847-06:005.21.2007: Have My Pancakes (and Eat Them, Too)<em>The Guy and the Uncertain Future.</em><br /><br />THE GUY<br />Uh oh.<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />What?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />You’re here.<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />Yes. I am.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />That’s never a good sign.<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />I resent that.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />It’s not that I don’t appreciate you…<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />Of course.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />…. it’s just the only time you ever show us is when something is hanging in the balance.<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />When you don’t know what the hell is going on.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Exactly. And that’s never comforting.<br /><br /><em>A pause.</em><br /><br />THE GUY (cont.)<br />So why are you here?<br /><em><br />Nate appears, eating some chocolate chip and peanut butter chip pancakes.</em><br /><br />NATE<br />These pancakes are really good.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Why’s he here? I’m not uncertain about him. He shouldn’t be here.<br /><br />UNCERTIAN FUTURE<br />Hold on. We’re not finished.<br /><br /><em>An Important Thinker on the Question of Theatre appears. And he has a letter in his hand.</em><br /><br />IMPORTANT THINKER ON THE QUESTION OF THEATRE<br />A letter! From Juilliard!<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Oh shit.<br /><br />IMPORTANT THINKER ON THE QUESTION OF THEATRE<br />To be opened on June 15!<br /><br />THE GUY<br />That’s weeks from now.<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />I know.<br /><br />NATE<br />Seriously these pancakes are really good.<br /><br />IMPORTANT THINKER ON THE QUESTION OF THEATRE<br />If we like you, we’re inviting you to join us!<br /><br />NATE<br />You sure you don’t want some?<br /><br />IMPORTANT THINKER ON THE QUESTION OF THEATRE<br />If we don’t, you’ll never have a chance at us again.<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />That’s it.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />What?<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />That’s why I’m here. Because a fork is about to appear in the road. Not today. But soon. You get to stand at the intersection of two great things and hold them both in your hand at once. But one of them gets left behind while you chase the other one into the sunset.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />You suck.<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />Sorry. That’s just how it goes.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I like them both.<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />I know.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Juilliard says yes…<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />You leave Nate here before you thought you’d have to.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />And that will suck. Juilliard says no…<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />You stay, but your dream is crushed.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />And that will suck.<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />But there’s a lot of good in either one.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Oh yeah. I know. Lots of good. In either place.<br /><br /><em>Pause. A moment of consideration. Then, to the Uncertain Future.</em><br /><br />THE GUY (cont.)<br />You can go now.<br /><br />UNCERTAIN FUTURE<br />Excuse me?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />You can go.<br />I don’t really need you.<br />Because I’m tired of being held back by uncertainty.<br /><br />Uncertainty got me here in the first place.<br />And I would rather believe in a world where I can have both things.<br />If I work at it hard enough<br />And do what needs to be done<br />And trust that inevitable ends aren’t always disappointments.<br /><br />I can have my pancakes and eat them, too.<br /><br /><em>He goes to Nate.</em><br /><br />THE GUY (cont.)<br />Can I have a bite?<br /><br />NATE<br />Sure.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />And you. Hold on to that letter. Let me know when it’s time.<br /><br />Everything that’s wantable is achieveable.<br /><br /><em>The Important Thinker on the Question of Theatre holds on to the letter. The Guy and Nate eat pancakes. The Uncertain Future watches on.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-50349824254509052312007-05-20T09:27:00.000-06:002007-05-22T09:28:44.356-06:005.20.2007: 31/27 (Your Birthday is My Birthday, Too)<em>The Guy and The Brother. A birthday cake.</em><br /><br />THE GUY<br />Happy birthday!<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />Happy birthday!<br /><br />THE GUY<br />You’re old.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />Not as old as you.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />True. 31.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />27.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />And the years march on…<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />All over your fucking midsection.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />God, ain’t that the truth.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />Another year begins.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yes it does.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />I have a good feeling about this one.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Me, too. I like the way it started.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />I’m sure you did. Manwhore.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Shut up.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />Truth hurts.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />You know, I’m glad we were born on the same day.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />Really? Because at first…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Well, yeah, at first I hated your guts.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />See…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />But now… I’m glad this day is yours as well.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />Me, too.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />You know, the best thing about sharing my birthday with you is that I never feel like I’m in the world alone. A new year starts, and no matter where I am, and no matter where you are, we always start it together.<br /><br />I like that.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />Me, too.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />So we should really blow these candles out.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />How many are there?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Not the actual number we’d need for both of our birthdays.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />We’d be a fire hazard.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I know.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />31/27.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />What are you gonna wish for?<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />I can’t tell you.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Stupid tradition.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />Cynic.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Bitch.<br /><br />THE BROTHER<br />I love you.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Love you, too.<br /><br /><em>They blow the candles out. And with them, so go the lights.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-9164590646648321922007-05-19T18:24:00.000-06:002007-05-21T18:26:05.450-06:005.19.2007: The Place You End and I Begin<em>The Guy and Nate. The lines happen as if one long uninterrupted sentence.</em><br /><br />THE GUY<br />Something happens when two people…<br /><br />NATE<br />… connect. You can’t really tell…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />… where one begins…<br /><br />NATE<br />…and the other ends…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />… You just know that these people…<br /><br />NATE<br />… for this moment that they’re together…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />… are really just occupying the same space…<br /><br />NATE<br />… and the distinctions…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />…evaporate…<br /><br />NATE<br />… and the boundaries…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />… blur…<br /><br />NATE<br />… and happiness…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />… happiness…<br /><br />NATE<br />… feels inevitable.<br /><br /><em>A breath.<br /><br />The Guy whispers the following to Nate.<br /></em><br />THE GUY<br />I knew from the second you came through my door hours before you were expected that I was going to have a terrific time with you. Because the second I saw you, I felt myself relax. I didn’t wanna impress you or ask you how you felt or discuss the current state of our relationship (because I tend to do that sometimes, with guys I like, I tend to cloud things over with too much noise instead of just letting it be) ---<br /><br />I just wanted to walk over to you, kiss you, give you a hug, and enjoy you being next to me.<br /><br />If you don’t mind, I kinda wanna keep that up.<br /><br /><em>Nate smiles. Nate grabs the Guy’s waist and pulls him close. The Guy leans against Nate.<br /><br />For a second, it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-13148622651200145742007-05-18T06:56:00.000-06:002007-05-19T06:58:37.343-06:005.18.2007: Second Skin<em>The Guy and The One Before. Dinner at a restaurant. Beer, burgers.<br /><br />They have not seen each other in about a month. They’ve talked on the phone, yes, but tonight is the first time they’ve actually been in the same place.</em><br /><br />THE GUY<br />So Nate’s coming down to see me tomorrow.<br /><br />THE ONE BEFORE<br />Cool.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yeah, I think he’s staying until Monday. It’ll be good to see him.<br /><br />THE ONE BEFORE<br />Rich called me.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Finally.<br /><br />THE ONE BEFORE<br />I know. He said he was busy with work, so I’m not gonna be too mad he hadn’t been in touch.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />What about that other one? Chris?<br /><br />THE ONE BEFORE<br />Craig. No I talk to him every day. He works a lot though. Just like you. But I still wanna go out on a date with him.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Good for you. Go for it.<br /><br /><em>They continue like this as a stage direction unfolds. An unstageable one that notices something the untrained eye could not see.<br /><br />As they talk, these two are shedding their skins. Slowly, in very small increments, pieces of their old skins are being peeled away, the skins that kept them together for six years.<br /><br />These old skins are shed because they are no longer needed. There is no going back to the people they were. And as they talk, they notice for the first time that they are both now better off than they were before – happier.</em><br /><br />THE GUY (cont.)<br />I missed you.<br /><br />THE ONE BEFORE<br />I know. Me, too.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />But you know… and I don’t want you to take this the wrong way or anything… but I’m not sad about it. Not like the first time. I miss you, you know, but I’m not sad anymore.<br /><br />THE ONE BEFORE<br />I know what you mean.<br /><br /><em>We never really notice when we get our second skins. But one day, they’re there. And the thing we thought we’d never get over is suddenly… over.</em><br /><br />THE GUY<br />Our waiter is cute.<br /><br />THE ONE BEFORE<br />I know.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I dare you to leave him your number.<br /><br />THE ONE BEFORE<br />I will.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />No you won’t.<br /><br /><em>The One Before picks up the check and leaves his number on the bottom.</em><br /><br />THE GUY<br />Oh my God. Who have you turned into?<br /><br />THE ONE BEFORE<br />I have no idea.<br /><br /><em>They laugh.<br /><br />Some skins are built to last forever. Most are built to be shed. And while they both believed their old skins would last forever, they are discovering that the ones beneath it are more beautiful than the ones before.<br /><br />It is a reassuring lesson to learn.<br /></em><br /><em>The lights go down.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-36261006741179792052007-05-17T21:06:00.001-06:002007-05-17T21:06:43.824-06:005.17.2007: Simple (How Much It Takes to Change a Day)<em>The Guy is here, his cell phone in hand.<br /><br />He flips it open, and we watch him send a text message.<br /><br />He closes his phone.<br /><br />A moment or two passes.<br /><br />His phone rings.<br /><br />He checks who it is. He smiles. He raises a finger to the audience as if to say “Hold on a minute, ok?” and answers.</em><br /><br />THE GUY<br />Hey, what’s up?<br /><br /><em>He walks off to take this call.<br /><br />The phone call isn’t a promise. It portends nothing. It is merely a nice, simple little moment. But the day changes, enough to get mentioned in here.<br /><br />He’s a good fella, Nate is. Glad he’s around.<br /><br />The lights go down.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-77410435675013402262007-05-16T09:10:00.000-06:002007-05-16T09:20:22.507-06:005.16.2007: Another Narcissus (People are Mysteries)<em><strong>“There is an older version than the one related by Ovid in his Metamorphoses, in which the proud and unfeeling Narcissus is punished by the gods for having spurned all his male suitors. In this story, Ameinias, a young man, loved Narcissus but was scorned. To tell Ameinias off, Narcissus gave him a sword as a present. Ameinias used the sword to kill himself on Narcissus' doorstep and prayed to Nemesis that Narcissus would one day know the pain of unrequited love. This curse was fulfilled when Narcissus became entranced by his reflection in the pool and tried to seduce the beautiful boy, not realizing it was himself he was looking at.”<br /> - Wikipedia entry</strong></em><br /> <br /><em>Narcissus, gazing at his reflection in a mirror. Ameinias watches at a distance.<br /><br />Narcissus speaks to his reflection.</em><br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />I love you.<br /><br />AMEINIAS<br />You should have loved me.<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />Don’t be shy. You can say it back to me. I can see the love there in your eyes.<br /><br />AMEINIAS<br />This is your punishment for not loving what you should.<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />I see so much of myself in you. Seriously, I look at you, and there’s this shock of recognition. We are perfect for each other.<br /><br />AMEINIAS<br />Until you die you will only love the thing you can never have.<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />You’re so coy. I can see you looking at me, gazing at me with those eyes that beg for something more, and yet you always stay so far away from me. Always at a distance.<br /><br />AMEINIAS<br />There’s no real satisfaction in watching you fall for yourself.<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />Just one kiss…<br /><br />AMEINIAS<br />But it’s better than nothing.<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />I wonder what my hand would feel like on your cheek.<br /><br />AMEINIAS<br />It’s hard to love something that doesn’t seem to love you back.<br />Like throwing yourself against a wall<br />hoping the wall might give against your weight<br />but discovering that the wall knows itself better than you do.<br /><br />People are such mysteries.<br />What goes on inside them.<br />We need windows, not mirrors.<br />We need open windows on all sides of ourselves<br />so there is never a doubt<br />and never a question<br />and no love will be given without the knowledge it will be returned.<br /><br /><em>To Ameinias, for the first time, but not leaving his reflection.</em><br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />I never said I didn’t love you.<br /><br /><em>This startles Ameinias.<br /></em><br />AMEINIAS<br />Are you speaking to me?<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />Of course.<br /><br />AMEINIAS<br />How much have you heard?<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />Everything. And I never said I didn’t love you.<br /><br />AMEINIAS<br />But you never gave me any indication you did.<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />Yes, I did.<br />Just not the indications you wanted.<br /><br />I think you wanted the rush of love,<br />the love from myths,<br />but love isn’t ever really like that.<br /><br />Not the kind that survives anyway.<br /><br />AMEINIAS<br />Oh.<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />Doesn’t matter anymore. I found someone who understands my kind of love.<br />At least I think I have.<br />Feels like the other half of me, you know?<br />That kind of connection…<br /><br /><em>Narcissus goes back to his reflection. Ameinias looks on.</em><br /><br />AMEINIAS<br />And I love you again.<br />But you still don’t love me.<br /><br />Love is a punishment from the Gods.<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />I love the way your mouth moves when you speak when you speak when you speak…<br /><br /><em>Narcissus watches the way his mouth moves as he says “when you speak” as the lights fade away.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-57105230429548347732007-05-16T04:37:00.001-06:002007-05-16T04:37:42.850-06:005.16.2007: A Kinda Gruesome Unstageable Moment (Early Morning)<em>A spotlight finds The Guy.<br /><br />He’s angry at himself. He’s been carrying something around that has been driving him crazy. And in this second, he wants it out of him, wants it gone, wants it to disappear and never return.<br /><br />So he reaches into his chest -- splitting the skin, cracking bone, ripping muscle, blood spraying everywhere – and pulls out his heart.<br /><br />His beating human heart, which continues to pound in his hand once he’s pulled it out.<br /><br />Since this is a play, he doesn’t die. It doesn’t even appear to hurt him. It’s only gruesome and violent (like a Tarentino flick).<br /><br />The heart beats on, doing what it has seemed to do all the goddamned time for the last few months – want. That’s all it does – WANT. As if there’s nothing else in the world that matters, nothing in the world to be done other than wanting and being wanted in return.<br /><br />You can see how needy it is when it pulses. It pulses like a heart that’s looking for attention.<br /><br />But now that’s done. It’s out of him. For good. And although he’s made a bit of a mess and left quite a hole in his chest, The Guy is happy.<br /><br />The heart throbs in his hands, completely undaunted.<br /><br />It says, “I want, I want, Want me in return…”<br /><br />The Guy admires its persistence.<br /><br />The lights go down.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-13153685695937550172007-05-15T19:52:00.000-06:002007-05-15T19:53:04.350-06:005.15.2007: Undiscovered Country (The Narcissus Play)<em><strong>“We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started, and know the place for the first time.” - T.S. Eliot</strong></em><br /><br /><em>Narcissus, the mythological figure who fell in love with his own reflection, sits on the stage floor, gazing at himself in a mirror. (Throughout the play, his gaze will never leave his reflection.)<br /><br />The Guy appears.</em><br /><br />THE GUY<br />What are you doing?<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />Exploring.<br /><br /><em>A silence.<br /></em><br />THE GUY<br />You’re staring at yourself in a mirror.<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />You’re correct.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Narcissist.<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />Yes, actually. The original one. Narcissus. From which all other like me descend. Pleasure to meet you.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Same.<br /><br /><em>A silence again.</em><br /><br />THE GUY (cont.)<br />What are you exploring?<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />The last great explorable terrain! The only distance over which great epic journeys can be made! The remaining undiscovered country! The SELF!<br /><br />Myself, specifically. Not yourself. Because yourself is really of no interest to me.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Well, thanks.<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />Don’t be offended. It has nothing to do with you, really. I just find myself endlessly fascinating.<br /><br />And if I were you, I’d be the last one to pass judgment on a narcissist. Look where I find myself. In this play of your making which is entirely about you.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />This is an experiment in theatrical autobiography.<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />You can call it whatever you want, my friend, but a mirror is a mirror no matter what form it takes. (I love the way my mouth moves when I speak when I speak when I speak…)<br /><br /><em>For a second, Narcissus is absorbed in watching himself speak “when I speak” and enjoys it immensely. Then he stops and comes back to the moment.</em><br /><br />NARCISSUS (cont.)<br />I’m sorry, what was I saying?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />A mirror is a mirror…<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />Oh yes. Your play! The little mirror you hold up so you can gaze at yourself.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />That’s not why I do this.<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />Uh huh.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />It isn’t…<br /><br />NARCISSUS<br />Look, buddy, come on, you don’t have to sell me on this. I’m not judging you. I’m with you all the way! Solidarity, brother!<br /><br />The myths have it all wrong, you know.<br />This wasn’t a punishment.<br />That’s what they wrote, that I was being punished<br />by falling in love with my reflection.<br /><br />But it wasn’t.<br /><br />I looked at myself.<br />Really looked at myself<br />(because people don’t do that much anymore, don’t you find?,<br />really look at themselves,<br />turn their razor-sharp gaze inward to see what lies beneath)<br /><br />and I fell in love.<br />And not the self-absorbed love,<br />not the preening, cloying, revolting kind<br />that turned my myth into an insult, into a degradation,<br /><br />but the kind of love that’s grateful fascination.<br /><br />We are endlessly miraculous creatures, aren’t we?<br /><br />So I’m an explorer. Not a narcissist.<br />I am mapping a world that changes by the second.<br />Each day I will find something never known before<br />and I will look at this inhabited body and mind<br />with fresh eyes.<br /><br />And every time, I see a New World.<br /><br />Who couldn’t gaze at that forever?<br /><br /><em>Narcissus gazes at himself. The lights fade.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-48630020550692397412007-05-14T16:59:00.000-06:002007-05-14T20:05:58.112-06:005.14.2007: The Topographer Surveys the Landscape<strong><em> "Life is like topography, Hobbes. There are summits of happiness and success... ...Flat stretches of boring routine... ...And valleys of frustration and failure." - Calvin,</em> Calvin and Hobbes</strong><br /><br /><br /><em>The Guy and The Topographer. His map is spread out on a table. The topographer gestures across it.</em><br /><br />THE TOPOGRAPHER<br />The world in relief.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I used to love looking at topographical maps. All the shapes inside other shapes, some of them so close they almost overlapped. Like rings on a tree trunk…<br /><br />THE TOPOGRAPHER<br />The roughness of the face of the world…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Smoothed out, yet readable.<br /><br />THE TOPOGRAPHER<br />I like the ones where different elevations are different colors.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Oh yeah!<br /><br />THE TOPOGRAPHER<br />They look like those heat vision things…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I love how our views of the world in maps always elaborate the world. You take the face of Earth and reassign its textures and irregularities lines and colors. Like art.<br /><br />THE TOPOGRAPHER<br />Not art. Art isn’t an objective thing.<br /><br />THE GUY<br /><em>Like</em> art. Not art <em>necessarily</em>…<br /><br />THE TOPOGRAPHER<br />Topography is fact. Art isn’t.<br /><br />THE GUY<br /><em>Artful</em>, then. You turn it into something artful.<br /><br />THE TOPOGRAPHER<br />You know, in an older sense, topography wasn’t just the study of the details of the surface of things. It meant more than that. Topographers studied the idea of place. Not just the elevations of a piece of the Earth but its culture, its traditions – local detail.<br /><br />We don’t understand it that way anymore. It’s just “a mountain goes here” and “a valley goes there” now.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />This is one of those plays where nothing happens, and we just spin on an idea, isn’t it?<br /><br />THE TOPOGRAPHER<br />Yup.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I bet if you laid out this play from end to end, surfaced a room with each page in order, you’d see the topography of a life.<br /><br />Everything, if you look at it hard enough, will show you its landscape.<br /><br />I’ve inhabited my life for thirty years now, and this is the first stretch of all that time that I’ve really had a means to look at the shape of it. And I can see, even in myself, “a mountain goes here, a valley goes there.”<br /><br />And relationships! I mean, they have them, too. We’re just all surging forward so fast we never stand back and survey the landscape.<br /><br />THE TOPOGRAPHER<br />There are days I want to make a topographical map of myself. Outline my self on a white sheet of paper and mark the elevations all across myself.<br /><br />And not just the physical.<br /><br />I want to mark every fault line where my heart was broken, every mountain that sprang up when something wonderful happened to me, every desert stretch where there was nothing to speak of either good or bad. An elevation map of the person I’ve become.<br /><br />So that I can see myself like this.<br /><br />Artful. Like you say.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Artful…<br /><br /><em>They consider. The lights go down.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-39897252157066868432007-05-13T06:56:00.001-06:002007-05-13T06:56:59.743-06:005.13.2007: The Mother’s Day Play<em>The Guy on stage. There’s a lot of stuff everywhere (which is often how The Guy’s life space looks – lots of stuff everywhere).<br /><br />The Mom appears.</em><br /><br />THE MOM<br />Cody…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Mom. You can’t call me Cody in this. I’m “The Guy” when I’m in this.<br /><br />THE MOM<br />You’re Cody. Don’t argue with your mother.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yes, ma’am.<br /><br />THE MOM<br />This place is a mess.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />I know. I’ve been busy.<br /><br />THE MOM<br />Still, you could pick up after yourself.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Have I ever been very good at keeping a place neat?<br /><br />THE MOM<br />No. You and your brother, both.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />We’re creative people. We don’t have time to clean up.<br /><br /><em>The Mom gives The Guy a dirty look.</em><br /><br />THE MOM<br />So…<br /><br />THE GUY<br />So you wanna know why you’re here?<br /><br />THE MOM<br />Yes.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />It’s sort of your Mother’s Day present.<br /><br />THE MOM<br />This?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yeah. Because I was trying to think of something to get you, but nothing ever seemed like something that meant anything. And I wanted to get you something that would let you know how much you mean to me and not just that you’re worth spending some money on perfume or something from Bath and Body Works. You know?<br /><br />THE MOM<br />Well thank you.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Plus, I could probably never say what I’m about to say to you in real life because I’d make it sound awkward and dumb.<br /><br />So…<br />here goes.<br /><br />I’m really happy in my life right now.<br />I’ve got a lot of really great things in it,<br />and the last year has been a year of big changes,<br /><br />but this is the best time in my life so far.<br /><br />and everything I’ve gotten was made possible because of you.<br />because of the time you took with me when I was little,<br />the care and attention and encouragement<br />and all the pushing you did,<br />all the high expectations,<br />everything you gave me made this day possible.<br /><br />You’ll never know how valuable those things have been.<br /><br />When I look at my life,<br />in every little corner of it,<br />I can see some mark you left behind.<br /><br />You’re somewhere in everything I am.<br /><br />And I always think of that when something good happens to me.<br />because when something good happens to me,<br />it, in some way, happens to you.<br />I get to do that for you.<br /><br />Every good thing that’s mine is also yours.<br /><br />I love the life you built for me.<br />And I love you.<br /><br />It’s why I do what I do.<br /><br /><em>A pause.</em><br /><br />THE GUY (cont.)<br />(and tell Dad I don’t think he didn’t do anything. But it’s Mother’s Day, so the play has be about Mothers, so he’ll just have to get over it and he’ll get his on Father’s Day).<br /><br /><em>No more words are exchanged. It’s not the kind of relationship that uses lots of words. The Guy does the only thing he can do in this moment to show The Mom he means every word he says.<br /><br />He starts to clean up the space.<br /> </em><br /><em>The lights go down.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376057766811772412.post-50336222943245092162007-05-12T06:32:00.000-06:002007-05-13T06:33:35.497-06:005.12.2007: When the World Was New (A Memory)<em>The Guy Back When and The Sad Song Friend sitting at a table, doing shots. Probably tequila, laughing. We have caught them in mid-drunken conversation. They’re complaining, but it’s funny to them. It’s all done in love.</em><br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />No, she’s a bitch.<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />She’s not a bitch.<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />I don’t even see why he likes her. Why is Brian dating her?<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />She’s your roommate. You love her.<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />I can love her and be her roommate and still think she’s a bitch.<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />You are such a faggot.<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />Fuck you. Take the shot.<br /><br /><em>They take the shot. They’ve had enough for this shot to cause a lot of grimacing and noise. But they laugh anyway. They set up another one.<br /><br />As they do, The Guy and Nate appear.</em><br /><br />NATE<br />Aww. Look at you drunk off your ass.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Shut up.<br /><br />NATE<br />It’s cute.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />It’s obnoxious.<br /><br />NATE<br />Is this because of the party?<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Yeah, made me think of it.<br /><br /><em>The next shot is set up.</em><br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />How many of these have we done?<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />I have no fucking idea.<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />One more won’t hurt, then.<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />And what else is there to do at this party? Brian’s outside making out with Tonya…<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />That bitch…<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />He could do so much better than her…<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />Yeah. He could have me.<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />Or me.<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />Or both of us at the same time.<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />Oh my God!<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />Totally fucking kidding.<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />That would be so fucking gross.<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />Do the shot.<br /><br /><em>They do the shot. Grimacing and noise and laughing about it. Another is set up.</em><br /><br />THE GUY<br />I had a lot of fun at your party.<br /><br />NATE<br />Good. I was really glad you came.<br /><br />THE GUY<br />Me, too. Getting to see you was great. And meeting your friends was also very fun.<br /><br />But the whole night, the thing I kept thinking about was it was so ironic that I’d have this night at this point in my life. Because everything about your party reminded me of the last time in my life I felt as optimistic about the future as I do right now.<br /><br />I’d missed that.<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />I AM GONNA RULE THE ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD!<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />You are so drunk.<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />Yes I am.<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />When we all make it on Broadway, we’re gonna have to do exactly this.<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />Every fucking night.<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />When we’re thirty…<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />BEFORE we turn thirty…<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />You writing the plays, me stage managing, and everyone out there acting in them.<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />Absofuckinglutely.<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />I wanna hold onto this forever.<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />Every fucking inch of it.<br /><br /><em>They hold up their shot glasses.</em><br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />Except Tonya.<br /><br />THE GUY BACK WHEN<br />She’s only invited if she stops dating Brian.<br /><br />THE SAD SONG FRIEND<br />Salut!<br /><br /><em>They do the shot. The worst grimaces, the biggest laughter.<br /><br />The Guy leans into Nate. Nate puts his hand on The Guy’s back. The Guy smiles.<br /><br />The lights go out.</em>Cody Daiglehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08671312924689472444noreply@blogger.com0